


Garland Gala.  1-3/3.

by punky_96



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 20:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14901431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punky_96/pseuds/punky_96
Summary: Re-post from LJ.Prompt: XV: Miranda on Santa’s lap, Andy is Santa… and bsofthewest:  Santa Wears PradaSummary: Irv tries to serve up revenge cold, but he doesn’t realize that he has to outsmart Andy as well as Miranda.





	1. Fountain of Information

_**Garland Gala. Part 1/?**_  
  
Her nose still cold from her errands and her feet throbbing in her shoes, Andrea closed her eyes reveling in the thought of sitting down while Emily had her lunch. It was the one benefit of the rule that phones must be manned at all times. It meant that either Andrea had to sit at her desk or someone else be called in from their other lives in order to keep Miranda’s phones happy. She had taken off her jacket and gloves upon entering, but just couldn’t part with her cashmere scarf. With a fresh coffee and the shots from the photo shoot to go through, Miranda should be occupied enough to not notice her assistant snuggling against the soft texture against her neck.  
  
The phone rang and Andrea opened her eyes, suddenly on alert and ready. She tilted her head when she saw that the light was blinking for Miranda’s direct line instead of the outer offices. Very few people were given the number and generally the assistant’s were not to answer. A second ring hand Andrea’s hands hovering over the earpiece and the button she needed to push in order to answer Miranda’s line. Instead she heard Miranda’s quiet salutation and she sighed out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Scooting back completely into her chair, Andrea pulled her hot cocoa with her and took a sip. Ducking her head forward, she ran her cheek against the blue warmth that was like her grown up safety blanket. Letting her head lean back against the chair, Andrea stretched out her legs with her ankles crossed and her hands warming against the venti cup in her hands. If Miranda was on a personal call, she could risk and moment of relaxation.  
  
Thanksgiving had been late this year and without even blinking they were thrown headlong into the madness of the holiday schmoozing and events. The Dalton Band/Choir night had been on the first of December so that hopefully people’s other plans wouldn’t conflict. Just over a week later it was the Garland Gala for all of the Elias Clark staff. Attendance was compulsory as was sitting on Santa’s lap. Thankfully Irv had a molecule left in his brain and did not put a time limit on the appearances.  
  
Andrea wasn’t sure how he had convinced everyone it was mandatory. Probably something about morale…  
  
The metal trash can ‘ding’ sounded very loud in the quiet office and Andrea was already on her feet while it settled from its most recent deposit. Setting her cocoa down on the desk, the brunette rounded the desk looking around for the source of the noise, because she knew she couldn’t have heard right. There was no way Miranda had thrown something into the bin hard enough to make that noise, nor the accompanying curse word that had reverberated out with it. Standing in the middle of the assistant’s breezeway, Andrea looked uncertainly away from the editor’s office and then slowly swiveled her head to look into her boss’s lair.  
  
Miranda stood at her desk, her palms flat against the smooth surface, her cheeks flush and her eyes blazing with anger. Andrea could tell that while Miranda was looking in her direction, she did not actually see her. Her brown eyes widened at this whole new level of devil in the woman she had steadily been watching and learning from for over a year. Never had she looked like this—not when she received the divorce papers in Paris, nor when she was no doubt locking Irving out of his own plans, or even when she was slashing through the ribbon of Nigel’s dream job. Tottering forward out of some inane desire to help the woman who had captured her heart without knowing. “Miranda?” She couldn’t help the query from falling off her lips, but she did stop short of going all the way over to the irate woman. A quick glance around the office revealed a Starbucks cup in the trash can, but did nothing to calm Andrea’s heart. Whatever had rattled the stoic woman, had to have been huge, which meant for Andrea to fix it would require some more of her Herculean efforts.  
  
Andrea watched as Miranda’s stormy eyes focused on her and she stood to her full height. It was impressive to watch her physically shake off her upset and compartmentalize the problem away from the surface. Andrea bit her lip against saying or asking anything further. She had already walked right out onto the bed of coals, there was no reason to ask them to hurt her.  
  
Breathing in deeply, Miranda’s glance skimmed her desk and she turned away from Andrea to face the windows. “Coffee, Andrea.” She raised her arm up so that her fingertips flipped back over her shoulder and shook her head to ward off any further questions or offers of help. It was not her usual dismissal, but things had been different between them since Paris, though neither of them tried to realize that fact.  
  
Nodding once at the woman’s back, Andrea said, “Yes, Miranda.” She slipped backwards into the assistant’s area as she checked the time on her phone. Emily had another ten minutes left on her lunch, but she’d just have to bring Serena up with her a little early. They could sit in the kitchenette until the phone rang. Typing a quick text, Andrea re-wrapped her blue scarf around her neck in preparation for putting her coat back on. She took a quick sip of her mostly cold cocoa and then tossed it in the metal bin with another resounding ‘ding’ of rattling metal in the quiet office. Stepping over to the coat closet, she slid one arm into the black wool trench and then chased it around her body to get the other sleeve. She buttoned up and adjusted her scarf, before tying the trench belt instead of fastening it. She smiled as she thought of when she had noticed Miranda doing that very thing with the onset of the chill weather. Grabbing her Starbucks card, Andrea returned to check her phone again. Emily was on the way up.  
  
With a look at the phones, Andrea willed them to not ring while Emily was slowly making her way up the floors in the elevator. In the middle of the Assistant’s breezeway, Andrea looked at her boss once more. She was still standing at the windows looking out over the city. Andrea didn’t think she really saw it though, not today. With a sad sigh, Andrea turned and headed out on her newest errand, thankful she got a small break, and that she had been there in some small way for Miranda.  
  
Instantly Andrea regretted not putting on her gloves, although at least this was a short trip out into the world instead of a laundry list of errands. She signaled to the barista behind the counter, who smiled back and nodded. Waiting her turn to pay would take about the same time as it would to make the drinks, and she didn’t care if her drinks were done before the people in front of hers. They weren’t regulars and they didn’t work for the fashion boss of the world. Realizing she could do some detective work while the person at the front of the line tried to figure out the difference between a grande upside down miso macchiato, a grande right side up nonfat no foam extra hot latte with 2 packets of sugar, or perhaps a grande steamed water—Andrea pulled out her phone. The twins could not have provoked that reaction, their father didn’t play those kind of games and they had been together at the twin’s recital the previous week, and Stephen was nothing but a footnote. To create that level of seething rage, Andrea deduced it had to be the nefarious chief executive officer of Elias-Clark—a short unsweetened extra ice little man called Irving Ravitz.  
  
Looking in her contacts, Andrea forced herself to smile before she pressed the number. “Tracey, hi, it’s Andy. No, no, just running errands for Runway.” Andrea loved that Mr. Ravitz had hired his assistant based on her looks instead of her intelligence, the woman was a fountain of information. As Tracey prattled on, Andrea moved up in line, ummed and awed at the right times and handed her card over to the barista. By the time she had her drinks in her hand, Tracey had let it slip that Irving had invited the press to this evening’s Christmas soiree and that he had rounded up executive donors that would add to their charity totals with each magazine editor caught kissing Santa Claus. Briskly crossing the street, Andrea grimly faced the facts of what she was up against: a forced appearance at the Garland Gala, one sitting on Santa’s lap, and (the coup de grace) a press photo of kissing Santa in order to boost their charity donations. Now it was painfully clear why, Irving had chosen Miranda’s charity for this year’s event. Riding up in the elevator Andrea thought about how Irv was trying his best to serve up revenge cold, but that it might just be over his cold dead body. In fact, Andrea decided somewhere around floor twelve, she’d help Miranda hide the carcass of that asshat.  
  
The afternoon passed by in the slow march of minutes toward an unhappy future. Emily fled the scene as soon as she could, wishing Andrea luck with their boss who had remained steadfastly quiet, although the tension emanating from her office was palpable. Andrea supposed it was better than firing half the building, but it was exhausting and she knew how hard it must be for Miranda to not let her anger out through those sharp barbs she so favored.  
  
“Have Roy pick me up at 9:45 to be there at 10:00 sharp.” Miranda’s emphasis on the word ‘there’ was unmistakable and Andrea thought she might get sick from the poison dripping from her tone. It almost made Andrea smile. “I’ll be out the door by 10:15.”  
  
Andrea nodded and watched her boss stalk down the hallway. She hoped no one rounded the corner given the mood her boss was in. Andrea checked the time and started to move her mental calculations into place. She had a time frame now and a lot to accomplish in a short amount of time, but that was the number one distinction of her time with Miranda and she had always succeeded in the past.

 

 

...


	2. Naughty or Nice

_**Garland Gala. Part 2/3.**_  
  
Andrea had greeted her boss at the door with the smile that had been missing all day. Despite the impending unpleasant circumstances, Miranda shared a small half smile in return. They were the only ones in the drafty foyer and she knew that her simmering anger had put some strain on the gentle closeness they had been developing in the last few weeks. Andrea had helped herself from The Closet to the Prada boots with the harness strap and goldtone detail and Miranda found that she was giving the younger woman a nod of approval, despite the scarf. The girl had not taken off that silly scarf once since Miranda had given it to her and she had to admit that warmed Miranda’s heart despite the small part of her hoping for a zombie apocalypse on the other side of the door. Shaking her head against that thought and its origins in her children’s recent tv viewing, Miranda pulled Andrea to her by the elbow and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She wondered what Andrea had on under her trench coat to go with those edgy boots. Her heart thumped double time from the kiss and the thought. Pulling away Miranda knew that once the holidays were over, she would have to face the facts of their closeness, what it meant, and the need to find Andrea a different job if this closeness was to continue.  
  
Amused brown eyes searched her blues and Miranda raised her eyebrow in question.  
  
Coyly shaking her head against answering out loud, Andrea smiled, pointed at the mistletoe at the door and then her cheek. With a blush the brunette snapped her fingers in a ‘missed chance’ sort of motion.  
  
Miranda nearly smiled again as she shook her finger at the assistant that defied all the rules and somehow had managed to win her heart. Twirling her hand to point at the door, Miranda let her work mask slip back into place and deliberately summoned her previous anger to go with it. Miranda could see her assistant trying not to giggle as she solemnly pulled the door open for her. If she could just get through the next fifteen minutes, then she would have to figure out what to do with this young woman who seemed to be as besotted with love as she was. Miranda breathed in deeply and prepared to do what she had to do.  
  
Mentioning drinks, Andrea slipped away while Miranda threw her coat over the counter. Glancing up to the clock on the wall and hoping the minutes would fly for her, Miranda’s eyes sought out Irving. He needed to know that she had done her part, there was no way she was going to have him try to play some kind of ‘I didn’t see you,’ sort of game. Aiming towards the man like a missile, Miranda did not spare another thought for her assistant. Andrea always could find her, so there was no worry there.  
  
Nigel joined her side after she had caught her limit of small talk. Thankfully, Miranda accepted the interruption. Irving could not deny her being there and there would be no missing her up on the stage on that fat man’s lap. Miranda cringed and took a large gulp of her drink as she and Nigel left Irving’s group. This was going to be a disaster and she hated that he had backed her into the corner. After a few moments of surveying the others in the room, Nigel nodded his head up at the stage. “When Santa comes back from break, you should go.”  
  
Scowling at him, Miranda took another sip of her drink and then raised her eyebrow. She was glad to see that he still shrank a little on the spot under her full attention. “Are you paying me back for Paris, too?” Miranda let the words slip past her lips hoping they wounded him as much as the thought wounded her.  
  
Contrary to the fear she had just seen in him, Nigel visibly relaxed and took a sip of his drink without answering. Then with a small laugh, he answered, “God no, H. I. is an unqualified disaster.” He leaned forward, placing his hand on hers lightly for emphasis. “I just think it’s about time.”  
  
Miranda narrowed her eyes at her long time friend and associate and she could find no malice, only sincerity and amusement. Somehow she felt that his amusement was not at her expense. Unlike Irving, who most definitely was amused at her expense and planned to exploit it for all that it was worth.  
  
“Just think of this as your first Elias-Clark extravaganza, without Jacqueline.” He clinked his glass against hers and took a healthy sip. Miranda couldn’t quite fight her own amusement at that thought as she realized they had just clinked glasses in a very sporty fashion. She swallowed her surprise with champagne. At least Irving got that right.  
  
Santa slowly climbed the steps at the far side of the stage and crossed back to his chair. The light picked up on the harness and gold tone accent of his boots and Miranda thought that his suit seemed to fit better now. ‘Maybe he adjusted it in the toilet.’ She mentally granted him. Santa sat down and leaned back into the chair rubbing his hands over his thighs to smooth the pants down and settle in for another shift of lap sitting and posed kisses. His beard seemed a different shade of white and the wire-rimmed glasses seemed a slightly different shape. In fact this was a different Santa, the previous one was definitely not wearing a blue cashmere scarf under his beard. Miranda’s jaw dropped as she gasped and then she felt Nigel’s hand on her back, but didn’t seem to realize he had started walking her over to the stage. Miranda couldn’t take her eyes off of the New Santa with the blue scarf and Prada boots.  
  
Mesmerized by the vision before her of twinkling brown eyes and Santa style smile mostly hidden by a full beard, Miranda took the three steps up onto the stage. She stepped forward and Santa bellowed out, “Ho ho ho. Who do we have here?” Miranda’s eyes nearly popped out of her face as she continued over to the chair. An elf leaned over and whispered in Santa’s ear. “Miranda Priestly, ho ho. Have you been naughty or nice?” Miranda felt her face heat with a furious blush and part of her wanted to flee, but that part had been bound and gagged by the part that was watching Santa pat his thighs in a sit down gesture. Tipping her glass back, Miranda downed the final bit of champagne and froze just as she reached Santa’s legs. Their eyes locked and Miranda’s brain was completely blank. “Sit down, sit down.” Santa said loudly as he leaned forward and grabbed her by the hips pulling her onto his lap. “I think you’re a naughty one! Ho ho ho.” Santa was very loud and jolly and the crowd around them laughed. Whispering, Santa said, “Trust me.” Miranda swallowed hard against the dryness in her throat. Calling out so the crowd could hear, Santa added, “You could get off the naughty list with a kiss, you know?”  
  
Santa didn’t sound like any Santa that Miranda had ever heard, but Santa also didn’t sound like any assistants she knew either—except there was no denying the familiarity of those eyes and that whisper. Miranda pulled her upper body back from Santa and rested her hands deliberately on his shoulders. Playfully Santa offered up his cheek to her. Miranda leant in thinking that this was completely out of hand when the lights went out plunging the room into darkness.  
  
“I told you to trust me.” Andrea whispered against Miranda’s puckered lips in the darkness and general hubbub of the crowd in the dark. “They would wait for the kiss for the photo and then it’d be too late!” The pure joy in her voice thrilled Miranda who suddenly pressed her lips forward in the darkness onto Andrea’s. Miranda squeezed her hands on Andrea’s shoulders and felt the thin frame of her assistant shudder underneath her. The hair of the beard was a ticklish distraction, but Miranda could taste the strawberry lip-gloss the woman favored. White gloved hands wrapped around her body as Andrea opened her mouth to the kiss, taking her first taste of champagne and coffee from Miranda’s lips.  
  
Before they could lose themselves completely, Andrea pulled her head back and brought one of those gloved hands up between them to Miranda’s face. She fumbled a little in the dark as she brushed against Miranda’s chest, but it couldn’t break the sweet spell they were caught in. “The lights will be on momentarily. Santa will come back from his break and I’ve gotta go. Just let them see us pulling away from a kiss.” Andrea felt Miranda nod against her hand and then she felt her lean forward seeking out her lips once more. Andrea moaned into the kiss this time as a new wave of giddiness washed over her. She had only planned to spare Miranda from a disgusting Santa and Irving’s photo op, and she had received so much more.  
  
The lights came on and Miranda slowly pulled away from Santa. The crowd milled about trying to figure out what was going on, and then there were a few cat calls as people noticed Miranda still on Santa’s lap on the stage. Gracefully and, finally, with all her wits about her, Miranda stood from Santa’s lap and made her way off the stage. Nigel was there to greet her with a knowing smile. “It’s about time.” He said as he turned and walked with her toward the exit. “And look at that 10:12 already. Time flies when you’re having fun.”  
  
On the stage Santa stood as well, pulling a cell phone out of his pocket and then saying loudly, “It’s the Misses, I’ve gotta take this. Ho ho ho.” He waved the phone at the crowd and made his way off the stage in the opposite direction. Quickly, Santa ducked into a janitorial supply closet where a black trench coat was dangling off the mop handle.  
  
Slipping the glasses into the jacket pocket, Andrea yanked the wig and Santa hat from her head and then pulled up on the beard to take it over her face. Bending halfway, Andrea fluffed out her hair and then ran her fingers through it to twist it around and around into a bun. Reaching into the other pocket of the trench, she pulled out a clip for her hair. Re-arranging her blue scarf to go with her outfit and her coat, Andrea slipped into one sleeve and then the other. Bending she scooped up the beard, wig and hat and stuffed them in the humongous zip-lock Serena had planted there for her. Good woman that she was, Serena would also come along and pick it up before she left the party. Looking the part of the dutiful assistant, Andrea slipped out of the door and up the hallway to the far end of the foyer.  
  
Nigel stood behind Miranda obviously having helped her into her coat. They spotted each other from across the long drafty room. “Where have you been?” Nigel scolded as he pressed Miranda forward with a hand at the small of her back. “I’ve had to get Miranda’s drinks all evening.” His dramatic emphasis on the last two words made Andrea giggle, which in turn made Miranda blush. “Ah, I see at least Roy is doing his job tonight. Off you go.” Amusedly he gave Miranda what, upon later review, would be called a shove, toward Andrea.  
  
“Naughty.” Miranda whispered to Andrea when they were close enough.  
  
“Who me, ho ho ho. I’m not naughty.” Andrea whisper-bellowed in her jolly Santa voice as she hooked her arm in Miranda’s to head out the door together. She looked over her shoulder and said, “You’ve been a good boy, Nigel Kipling. Ho ho ho.”  
  
His laughter chasing them out the door, they huddled closer together for warmth.

 

...


	3. Santa Wears Prada

_**Garland Gala. Part 3/3.**_  
  
Roy had to flex the muscles just under his eyes in order to focus on his assignment as well as fight off the smile he felt ready to share his joy in the world at the sight of Miranda and Andrea huddled together as they approached the car. It was well worth the time he had spent driving back and forth helping Andrea after he took Miranda home until he picked her up for the party. He would sleep well tonight knowing he had done a good deed for the right person with the right reason. When Miranda slipped into the car and pulled Andrea with her, Roy couldn’t fight the amusement any longer—Andrea’s surprised gasp was truly too much to be resisted.  
  
Inside the car, Andrea found it hard to breathe. It was as if she had planned running, but hadn’t really thought about what it would be like to dive off the cliff into the water. The feel of the air rushing past her, the plunge in her stomach of the excitement and fear, and the unstoppable pace at which things moved once started: well, they were all overwhelming. Andrea had simply wanted to circumvent Irving Ravtiz attempt to belittle Miranda. So, yes, she had arranged for Santa to take his break at ten, and yes, she had worn the Santa suit and her grandfather’s Santa glasses under her jacket, and she had even arranged with one of the stage guys to cut the power somehow as soon as Miranda leaned in for the kiss. What she had failed spectacularly to do was prepare for Miranda to actually kiss her, for the mutual feelings simmering between them to simply be acknowledged, accepted, and acted upon.  
  
“Andrea.” The cool whisper brought Andrea out of her panicked tunnel vision. “Look at me.”  
  
Blinking once, twice and then again, Andrea turned her head and looked in the semi-dark of the car into Miranda’s searching blue eyes. It was as if she was waking from a surreal dream into an even more surreal reality. She had just impersonated a Santa in front of a good 700-800 people. She had just left arm in arm with the queen of fashion—a very coveted after woman and a page 6 regular feature.  
  
“Andrea, we need to talk.” Miranda brought up her other hand to stroke the smooth skin of Andrea’s cheek. “Oh dear, you look like a deer.” The corners of her mouth turned up into an incredible smile and her eyes searched Andrea’s for any indication of where her mind had traveled. Andrea slowly reached up and took Miranda’s hand in hers. As she lowered it to her lap, Andrea’s big brown eyes followed the sight of her fingers controlling part of Miranda, being allowed to touch Miranda, and reveling in the feel of their skin pressed together.  
  
Shaking her head as if to settle the words onto her tongue, Andrea looked at Miranda with wonder, “I, yes, you kissed me.”  
  
Miranda ducked her head down slightly and teased, “You told me to.”  
  
Gasping, Andrea pulled back, but Miranda squeezed her hand. “No, I did not!”  
  
Miranda rubbed her thumb across the skin underneath it, reveling in the new found freedom she had to do so. Andrea seemed to be freaking out, but she had not shied away from their physical closeness in any way. Miranda found this fact most comforting. Knowing that her playfulness was pulling Andrea out of her shock, Miranda countered with her own Santa voice, “Ho ho ho. You can get off the naughty list with a kiss.” Miranda smiled at the woman who had swept her quite off her feet—in front of all of Elias-Clark and with no one the wiser. Andrea’s eyes went wide with surprise and then just as she was opening her mouth to protest that she had offered her cheek, Miranda’s lips were against hers once more. As Andrea began to kiss back, Miranda smiled into the kiss—this definitely jolted her out of her shock. Andrea’s arms came around her body, pulling her in closer and igniting a fire that Miranda had never thought she would kindle.  
  
Tasting the chill still clinging to the other’s cheek, savoring the wet heat of the other’s lips, thrilling at the push and pull of tongues dancing together for the first time—the car ride was filled with such simple pleasures that in no time at all, they had arrived at the townhouse. Two confident knocks on the glass had preceded Roy opening the door, but had not prepared them for the chilly blast that accompanied him. Andrea nearly backed out of the car, unwilling as she was, to turn away from Miranda. For her part the editor seemed unwilling to break the spell as she slid after the young brunette her hand never leaving Andrea arm, side, or hip. Andrea nearly fell backward into the flowers behind the curb when Miranda stood to her full height pressed fully against Andrea’s body. Suddenly she thought she might die as she felt her nipples harden, heard Miranda’s sharp intake of breath, and knew they were going inside where there would be no more interruptions. The red velvet Santa suit had never been more constricting than it was underneath her black trench coat and blue scarf while pressed against Miranda in her beautiful Valentino gown that hugged curves Andrea had mapped a thousand times with her eyes.  
  
“Don’t fall.” Miranda murmured as Andrea stepped back to catch her balance and Miranda went with her. Arms wrapped around each other, they giggled, completely unaware of Roy standing there, hoping to not break the spell between them.  
  
“Can’t help it.” Andrea said as she looked into Miranda’s eyes and smiled.  
  
“Andrea.” Miranda quietly uttered as she leaned forward and claimed her rosy lips in another kiss.  
  
When more than a few seconds had ticked awkwardly by for Roy, he coughed and shut the car door. He didn’t want to break the moment for them, but it was a clear winter night and you never knew when paparazzi would come trolling around. Without looking at the ladies, he rounded the car and got in the driver’s side. Pulling away he smiled as he saw them going up the steps to the front door. Once the key had turned, he hit the gas.  
  
They stumbled into the foyer, kissing as they shut the door and giggling like two school girls falling in love.  
  
The heater had been set to come on in time for Miranda’s homecoming and between that and their own shared inferno, the two ladies were sweating quickly. Miranda unwrapped Andrea’s blue silk scarf from her neck, breaking the kiss only long enough to set it on top of the book. Andrea’s hands slipped inside her coat pulling it open and then as she kissed down Miranda’s neck, her hands slid it backwards off her shoulders. Andrea held the coat in her fist as she wrapped her arm around Miranda’s lower back and kissed her way across the pale expanse of skin along her collarbone.  
  
Miranda let her step away long enough to hang the coat in the closet. However, she pressed against Andrea’s back with her hands coming around to the hastily tied belt at the front. Kissing the skin left exposed without the scarf, Miranda untied the knot and let her hands find the edges of the coat as well as Andrea’s cleavage. The lean body of Andrea shuddering in her arms, made Miranda moan. Following the edges of the coat up, Miranda pulled it back and away from Andrea’s torso to reveal the red and white Santa suit.  
  
“Oh.” Andrea said as she felt her jacket peel away from her body and the loss of Miranda’s heat against her. Slipping past a frozen Andrea, Miranda hung the coat on the first available hanger.  
  
Then she let her hand trail along from Andrea’s shoulder, down around the back of her arm and under her elbow until she let her fingers slip between Andrea’s to pull her along the hall to the study. Like magnets, Andrea and Miranda sought each other out as soon as they had sat down—as if they had been long parted and needed to re-acquaint each to the other with lips and fingertips.  
  
Heart threatening to explode in her chest, Andrea pulled away. “Can’t breathe.” She blushed as she looked into Miranda’s desire hazed eyes.  
  
Shaking her head, Miranda reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. A strand that she had no doubt pulled loose from Andrea’s bun, while Andrea drove her mad with a tiny bite just under her ear. “Nor can I.” She agreed, her voice ragged as she tried to take in her first full lungful of air since seeing that Santa Substitute. Her hand rested on Andrea’s shoulder and then slowly she let it slip down Andrea’s front in a deliberate challenge though she wasn’t sure if it was to herself or Andrea. They were both rushing headlong into something that they weren’t ready for, but seemed unable to stop now that the first move had been made. “You have to tell me about this suit.” Miranda said with a smile.  
  
Andrea told her about her grandfather, a Santa and Montgomery Ward, and the fond memories then and now. She told of acquiring information and then developing a plan. All the while their hands continued to explore, their eyes feasted on the sheer joy radiated back from the other, and they kissed and kissed until their lips were bruised and their eyes were tired. Someone had told the press about the kisses and maybe suggested that they wait for the right moment for their snaps. Then the guy from Wired had agreed to short the power. Santa was almost forgotten in the retelling of the tale, until ‘oh, yes, I forgot’ and they were off again into the story and the wonder of each other.  
  
“I’m falling asleep on you.” Andrea shyly said as she pulled herself into awareness unsure if she was still kissing or had started sleeping. From the look in Miranda’s eyes, she had been with her as well between the pleasures of both lips and pillows.  
  
“Stay.” Miranda said as she sat up a little straighter.  
  
Brown eyes questioned Miranda as the brunette weighed her response. “We’re—”  
  
With a small smile, Miranda beat her to the finish, “Ready?” She pulled Andrea’s hand up to hers and kissed it. “No, but I’m not ready to part yet either.” Miranda stood, pulling Andrea with her. “Just stay so I know it’s not a dream.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Upstairs the Santa suit was shed to reveal red lingerie. Miranda scolded her with a renewed wakefulness, putting Andrea on the ‘Naughty List.’ Cocooned in the softest sleep shirt she had ever imagined, Andrea scolded Miranda for her cold toes and put her beside herself on the ‘Naughty List.’ They kissed through the magic hour of the sun’s first rays blessing the day and right on into the sunrise.  
  
Street sounds and the call of nature finally brought them to the awareness of their first new day. Taking turns, asking for a toothbrush, being so intimate, but so new—these were the details that sustained the spell between them. Hunger and the need for caffeine pulled them from the third floor and into the kitchen.  
  
“Miranda.” The brunette was mesmerized by the sight of Page 6 laying out on the table.

 

  
_**Santa Wears Prada?!? Oooh La La!** _   
  
_It seems that the in-fighting at Elias-Clark will continue into the New Year. Being allowed into the international conglomerate’s Garland Gala, the press eagerly awaited the fundraising antics of CEO Irving Ravitz as he encouraged donors to double their donations when the various editors sat on Santa’s lap and kissed him. (See photos below the line.) Irving thought he had Miranda Priestly, the Dragon Lady this time, but it would appear she had her own Santa to kiss, thank you, Mr. Ravitz. When it was her turn on the stage, we noticed that this Santa was quite a bit more stylish as well as less padded. Hell, he was even wearing Prada boots! The lights went out and Ravitz was ready to lose his mind (photo on the right). When the lights came back on, their lip lock was still going strong. There were no photos in the dark, but it looks like Irving was bested at his own game, again! Merry Christmas, Dragon Lady, hope Santa put you on the ‘Nice List.’_

 

  
**FIN**  
  
x  
  



End file.
